Chapter 4 Chapter two
The fighting in the Sheikkot Valley started off badly and then only got worse.Marine Maj. Kit Carlson, who was with the Special Operations advance team, was supposed to go home, but his unit was ordered to back up.
He was in Mazar-e-Sharif when the rioting Taliban prisoners were cut down like wheat by the Uzbeks and Tajiks of the Northern Alliance.He saw Johnny Mike Spann, a boy from Special Operations, beaten to death by Taliban captors.From the far side of the great valley, he watched as men from the Special Boat Squadron of the Royal Marines rescued Spann's companion, Dave Tyson, from a similar fate.
Then it swarmed south like a storm, bypassing the former Soviet air force base in Bagram and occupying Kabul.He missed the battle of the Tora Bora massif.American-bought Afghan warlords betrayed them by allowing Osama bin Laden and his entourage to slip across the border and into Pakistan.
A small number of diehards still hold out in the Shaykhkot Valley in Paktia province.This information is rubbish again.That's not a handful, it's hundreds of people.
Among the defeated Taliban, Afghans have somewhere to go: their own villages.They can slip away and disappear without a trace.But al Qaeda fighters are Arabs, Uzbeks, and the toughest of them all, Chechens.Chechens don't speak Pashto and normal Afghans hate them.They either surrender or fight to the death.Most people choose the latter.
The U.S. military command developed a small-scale plan in response to this news, called "Operation Anaconda", and assigned the task to the Navy's SEALs.Three heavy Chinook helicopters loaded with SEALs took off for what they thought was an empty valley.
To touch the ground, the lead helicopter nose up, tail down, and the door that doubles as a springboard opened a few feet above the ground.At this time, the hidden "base" organization personnel opened fire on them.One rocket got too close and went straight through the fuselage without exploding.The flight time of the shell in the air is too short to explode in time.So it flew in from one side, didn't hit anyone, and flew out from the other side, leaving two bullet holes, whistling in the wind.
It's the machine guns that do the real damage.Bullets from snow-covered rock shelters swept across the fuselage, missing the occupants as well, but knocking out the control panel and knocking it off the deck.The pilot pulled the dying plane up in the air and miraculously flew another three miles until he found relatively safe ground and made an emergency crash landing.Two other helicopters followed behind it.
But one SEAL, Master Chief Neil Roberts, let go of his leash, stepped on a puddle of water, and slid out of the back of the plane.He fell to the ground and was not injured, but was surrounded by al Qaeda men.On the battlefield, life or death, SEALs never leave their companions behind.After the plane landed, they rushed back to rescue Master Chief Roberts while calling for backup.The Battle of Sheikh Court began.The fighting lasted four days.Neil Roberts and six other American soldiers were killed.
The distance is relatively short, and there are three troops that can respond to the call.One is the special boat squadron of the Royal Marines, and the other is the special operations unit from the other direction. The largest force that comes to support is a battalion of the 75th Ranger Regiment.
It was cold, with temperatures below freezing.A blizzard hurts the eyes.Everyone wondered how those Arabs survived the winter here.But they survived and were ready to fight to the last man.They took no prisoners, and did not expect to be prisoners themselves.Eyewitnesses later testified that they rushed out of crevices in the rocks, invisible caves, and concealed places where machine guns were hidden.
Any veteran will tell you that battles can get messy quickly, and the Battle of Sheikh Court got messier than most.Squads and platoons are separated from the main force, and individual soldiers are separated from squads and platoons.Kit Carlson finds himself naked except for the ice and the blizzard.
He saw another American soldier about forty yards away, also alone, wearing a helmet and hood.A guy in a robe jumped up from the ground and fired a rocket at the soldiers in camouflage.This time the shell did not misfire.The shell missed the American soldier, but exploded at his feet.Carlson saw him fall.
He took down the RPG shooter with his automatic rifle.Two more men jumped out and shot him, shouting "Allahu Akbar".He brought them all down, and the second man was only six feet away from the muzzle of his gun.Carlson came to the American soldier, who was alive but in a bad condition.White-hot shrapnel from the rocket casing sliced into his left ankle, badly wounding it.The foot in the combat boot is only attached to a tendon and some muscle tissue, the bone is gone.He was still in the initial state of shock, and he didn't know the pain before the severe pain struck.
Both of their clothes were covered with a thick layer of snow.But Carlson could make out the flash of the Ranger badge.He tried to find others on his radio, but heard only static.He untied the wounded man's backpack, took out the first-aid kit, and injected the entire morphine stick into the wounded man's bare calf.
The Ranger began to feel pain and gritted his teeth.The morphine kicked in and he slumped down, somewhat delirious.Carlson knew that if they stayed here, both would die.Visibility was only twenty yards with gusts of wind.Seeing no one, he put the wounded ranger on his shoulders and started marching.
He was hiking through some of the worst terrain on Earth: a foot of snow beneath slick cobblestones, each the size of a football, that could easily break a leg.His load included: himself, 180 pounds; backpack, 60 pounds; Rangers, another 180 pounds; automatic rifle, grenades, bullets, and water.He dropped the Ranger's backpack.
Later, he had no idea how he trekked out of that death canyon.For a moment, the Ranger's morphine was too strong.Carlson put him down and injected him with his own.After what seemed like a whole year, Carlson finally heard the roar of the engine.With unconscious fingers he pulled out his red-brown signal stick, tore it open with his teeth, and held it high toward the noise.
The crew of the Black Hawk helicopter responsible for the casualty evacuation later told him that the flare was so close to the cabin that they thought they had been hit.When they calmed down and looked down, they found two snowmen under the plane, one was down and the other was waving.Rescue operations are very dangerous.The Black Hawk hovered just two feet above the snow, and two Marines strapped the Ranger to a gurney and dragged it into the cabin.With the last of his strength, Carlson climbed onto the plane and passed out.
After the Black Hawk helicopters had flown them to Kandahar—now a huge U.S. Air Force base—they were busy with other things.The Rangers were taken away for priority medical and critical care.Kit Carlson thought he would never see him again.The next day, the Rangers were sedated and flown to the remote U.S. Air Force Base in Ramstein, Germany.The base hospital there is world-class.
At this moment, the Ranger's left foot was gone, and there was no way to keep it.A clean amputation completed the work that the cannonball started but did not finish.He was left with a leg without a foot, a prosthetic, a limp, a pair of crutches, and the prospect of the end of his Rangers career.He is Lieutenant Colonel Dale Curtis.When he was physically able to withstand the trip, he was sent to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center outside Washington for post-war rehabilitation to fit his prosthetic.Major Kit Carlson did not see him again for many years.
The head of the CIA in Kandahar received orders from his superiors, and Carlson was sent to Dubai.There are many people in the CIA who are here.He was the first eyewitness to come out of the Shaykhkot Valley.This was followed by a lengthy debriefing to a series of "big guys" who questioned him from the Marines, Navy and CIA.
At the officers' club, he met a man about his own age.He is a naval commander stationed in Dubai, which also has a U.S. naval base.They have dinner together.The commander said he was from the Naval Criminal Investigative Service.
"Why didn't you transfer to us when you returned home?" he asked.
"Being a cop?" Carlson asked. "I don't think so. Thank you very much, though."
"We're much bigger than you think," said the commander, "and it's not just about overstaying sailors ashore. I'm talking about major crimes, tracking criminals who steal millions, and we have ten largest naval base. It's a challenge."
This sentence convinced Carlson.The Marine Corps is also part of the U.S. Navy, he just made adjustments in this big organization.He felt that when he returned to the United States, he would definitely have to go to Langley's Building Two and go back to analyze the Arabic materials.He submitted an application to NCIS.They poached him.
That got him out of the CIA and sort of put him back in the arms of the Marines.He was posted to Portsmouth Naval Station, Newport News, Virginia.Susan quickly found a position at the large Naval Hospital here and lived with him.
In Portsmouth, he could often see his mother.The mother has breast cancer and is undergoing treatment.Three years later, illness took her life.That year, his father, General Carlson, finally retired and became a widower at the same time.In Portsmouth, you can also be closer to your father.The old general went to a nursing home on the edge of Virginia Beach.There, he can play his favorite golf ball and join other Marine Corps veterans for a veterans' evening on the beach.
He spent four years at NCIS, bringing ten high profile fugitives to justice. In 2006, he was transferred back to the Marine Corps, promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel, and assigned to Camp Lejeune, North Carolina.His wife, Susan, died when she was struck in the head by a drunk and out-of-control driver while driving across Virginia to meet him.
It was the third stabbing in a month, this time of a senior police officer in Orlando, Florida.One fine spring morning, he was about to go out, and when he bent to open the car door, he was stabbed in the heart from behind.Though dying, he drew his sidearm and fired two shots.His killer was killed on the spot.
Subsequent investigations confirmed that the young killer was born in Somalia and was also a refugee granted political asylum on sympathy grounds, working for the municipal sanitation department.
His colleagues confirmed that he has had a sudden change of temperament for two months, withdrawn, withdrawn, and very dissatisfied with the American way of life.Eventually, the crew of the same cleaning van repulsed him because he became so difficult to get along with.They attributed his change of temperament to his longing for his native land.
It is not like that.A search of his residence revealed that this was the result of a conversion to extreme jihadism.The landlady heard a sermon coming from his room.Apparently he got that way by indulging in a series of online sermons.A full report was sent to the Orlando FBI office and then to the Hoover Building in Washington, DC.
The incident no longer causes surprise here.Four similar incidents have been reported in the US; in the UK, the FBI is aware of two.A Middle Eastern missionary, speaking pure English, preached on the Internet.Some quietly converted after listening to these sermons for long periods of time.Then comes the sudden, completely unforeseen murder.The targets were all prominent figures among the local populace.
The CIA, the Counterterrorism Center, and the Department of Homeland Security have all checked.All U.S. intelligence agencies even remotely involved in dealing with Islamic terrorists are informed and documented.But no one was able to give helpful intelligence.Who is this guy?Where is he from?Where did he record the show?He started to land on the list of "Most Valuable Targets", but his label has only one word - "missionary".
Missionaries continue to call on people, as long as they convert and give the big Satan a full blow, they can get the eternal blessing of Allah.Among the immigrant population in the United States, there are more than one million Muslims.They converted to Islam either themselves or through their parents in the Middle East and Central Asia.This is a huge pool of potential converts to the missionary's extreme jihadist preaching.
The missionary was brought up for discussion during a Tuesday morning briefing in the Oval Office of the President and ended up on that "hit list."
People cope with grief in different ways.For some people, the only way to prove their sincerity is to cry hysterically.Others responded, quietly, breaking down, weeping helplessly, mostly in public.But there are also people who, like animals, only heal in privacy and alone. They grieve alone, sharing their tears only with the walls unless they need to hug another loved one or partner.Kit Carlson visits his father at his place.Since his post was at Lejeune Barracks, he wouldn't stay long. He was alone in the empty room of the base, throwing himself into his work.He went out on alone runs or spent long hours in the gym until the physical pain dulled the inner pain, until the base doctor told him to relax. The Battlefield Hunter program is a course that teaches Marines the skills to track and capture in wild, rural and urban environments.The core idea is: always be a hunter, don't be the target of being hunted.Kit was one of the founders who thought about creating this course.During his time at Portsmouth and Lejeune, a lot of big things happened. The "9.11 Incident" triggered a sudden change in the US Air Force and government's threat to the United States, even if this threat to the United States had only the slightest possibility.The national early warning system is slowly starting to think about how to deal with paranoia.The result was an explosion of "intelligence" agencies.The original sixteen intelligence-gathering agencies in the United States suddenly increased to more than one thousand. By 2012, according to accurate estimates, the United States had declassified 850,000 top-secret documents.More than 1,200 government organizations and 2,000 private companies are engaged in top-secret programs related to counterterrorism and homeland security.More than 10,000 places were involved, all over the country. Goal as far back as 2001: Basic intelligence agencies must never refuse to share their intelligence with each other, lest nineteen mass murder zealots slip through the early warning system again.But a decade later, at the cost of bankruptcy, the result is mostly the same as it was in 2001.The entire self-defensive state apparatus produces almost fifty thousand top-secret reports a year, far more than any human being can read, let alone comprehend, analyze, synthesize, or verify.So those reports were just filed away. Basically, most of the growth comes from the Joint Special Operations Command, or J-SOC.Before those nineteen people, the agency had existed for many years, but it was very low-key, basically a defense agency.Take two and turn it into the world's largest, most aggressive, and deadliest personal force. The word "private" makes sense.Because it's the president's personal tool, not anyone else's.It can conduct secret wars without seeking any approval from Congress; it gets billions of dollars a year in its budget and never bothers with the State Appropriations Committee; work schedule.Everything is top secret. The first reformer of JSOC was Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld.He was a tough, power-hungry guy in Washington circles who resented the CIA's privileges.According to its charter, the CIA is accountable only to the president, not Congress, and it has Special Operations troops.It can conduct stealthy and deadly operations overseas if the chief speaks.This is power, real power.Secretary Rumsfeld is determined to have that power.But much of the Pentagon is at the mercy of Congress, subject to its unlimited possibilities for interference. If he had any chance of competing with CIA Director George Tenet, Rumsfeld needed an armed force outside of congressional surveillance.A fully reformed Joint Special Operations Command is such an armed force. With the approval of George W. Bush, JSOC has grown in size, budget, and authority.It absorbed all of the special forces across the country, including the Sixth SEAL (which later killed Osama bin Laden), the Delta Force (or D-Boys, drawn from the Green Berets), the Sixth Seventy-fifth Ranger Regiment, Air Force Special Aviation Regiment (has long-range helicopters and is good at night sneaking), etc.It also incorporates the Technical Operations Support Directorate. In the summer of 2003, when the Iraq issue was at its height, almost no one was looking elsewhere.Two events occurred at this time to complete the reinvention of JSOC.General Stanley McChrystal was named the new commander.Anyone who thinks that JSOC will continue to play a primarily domestic domestic role is running out of ideas. In September 2003, Secretary Rumsfeld obtained the consent of the President and signed the Presidential Order of the United States. The presidential decree has eighty pages, and the traces of the highest instructions of the United States are deeply engraved between the lines, but there is no specific content.It's sort of like a big "presidential investigation."What the presidential decree actually says is: Do whatever you want. Around that time, a lame Ranger lieutenant colonel named Dale Curtis was on paid rest from convalescence, but it was almost over.He has mastered the technique of using the prosthetic left leg very well.In fact, no one could even tell that his legs were bad.But the 75th Rangers were not for those with prosthetics.His career appears to be over. But like the SEALs, the Rangers don't leave their partners in trouble.General McChrystal, also a Ranger of the 75th, had heard of Lieutenant Colonel Curtis.The general had just run the entire Joint Special Operations Command, including the Technical Operations Support Directorate, whose commander was about to retire.Commander's position doesn't require the same standards as field assignments, it's just an office job.The meeting was brief, and Lieutenant Colonel Curtis jumped at the opportunity. There's an old saying in this secret force: If you want to keep a secret, don't try to hide it.Because those disgusting media people will sniff it out.Give it an innocuous name, a completely boring job description - TOSA, short for Technical Operations Support Agency.Don't even use the words "agency", "administration" or "authority".Operational Support can mean changing a light bulb, or, weeding out third world obnoxious politicians.In this case, however, it is likely to be the latter. Before the "9.11 Incident", the Technical Operations Support Bureau had existed.Among the people it hunted was Colombian drug lord Pablo Escobar.That's what it does.If everyone else is stumped, this arresting force will be called in.It has only two hundred and fifty employees and is based in Northern Virginia under the guise of a toxic chemistry research center.No one will visit. In order to make itself more secretive, it constantly changed its name, and was even shortened to "Operation". .The Commander liked that last name enough to use it as his own.After receiving his commission, Lieutenant Colonel Dale Curtis disappeared, becoming Gray Fox.Later, the department was renamed "Intelligence Support", but the word "intelligence" was more noticeable, so it was changed to TOSA, Technical Operations Support Bureau. In 2009, Gray Fox's most important hunter retired.At this time, Fox had served in this position for six years, and his head was full of real secrets.He set off to a Montana archive to find his right man.There is only one computer on the desk, and Lieutenant Colonel Curtis can only sit behind the desk to look for it.Still, having all the passwords to DOD systems is a good start.A week later, a face appeared on the screen and he was stunned.Lieutenant Colonel Christopher Kit Carlson - the man who carried him out of the Shaychcourt Valley! Fox checked Carlson's resume.Actual soldier, foreign language scholarship, expert on Arabic issues, proficient in multiple languages, "hunter".Fox reached for the phone on the table. Kit Carlson doesn't want to leave the Marine Corps a second time.However, the result of the second dispute still won the above. A week later, he walked into Gray Fox's office.The office building is low and sits in a wooded area in Northern Virginia.He noticed that the man who came to greet him was limping.A crutch was propped in the corner, with the emblem of the Seventy-fifth Ranger Regiment pasted on it. "Remember me?" the lieutenant colonel asked.Kit Carlson thought of the biting wind, the pebbles under his combat boots, the weight on his back that was breaking him, and the exhaustion of wanting to die right there. "It's been a long time," he said. "I know you don't want to leave the Marine Corps," Gray Fox said, "but I need you. Also, in this building, we only use the first name. Others, like 'Lieutenant Colonel Carlson,' have since are no longer used. To the whole world outside this building, you are just a 'stalker'."
For years, the Tracker worked alone, even on the trail of six of the nation's most wanted enemies.Betullah Mehsud, a member of the Pakistani Taliban, was blown up by a drone in a farmhouse in South Waziristan in 2009.Abu Yazid, the founder of al-Qaeda and a financier of 9/11, was killed in another drone strike in Pakistan in 2012. He was the first to identify Quweidi as bin Laden's personal messenger.The surveillance drone followed Quweidi on his last long drive through Pakistan.Surprisingly, he did not drive to the mountains, but took another road.He thus discovered one of bin Laden's strongholds in Abbottabad. Yemeni-American Anwar al-Awlaki was caught preaching online in English after he invited his fellow American Samir Khan, editor of the jihadist publication Inspire, to join his group in northern Yemen .Quso, who has been traced to his residence in South Yemen.The drone launched another strike while he was sleeping, and a Hellfire missile flew through his bedroom window. One morning in 2014, when the trees were just sprouting, Gray Fox came along with a copy of the "Presidential Survey" delivered by courier from the Oval Office. "Another Internet trumpeter, stalker. But it's weird, no name, no face. No leads at all. He's yours. Just say what you want, 'Presidential Investigation' will meet all your requirements." Finished , he limped out. There is a file, but very little. On September 2, 2011, about two years ago, Awlaki and his companions died beside a road in northern Yemen.Shortly thereafter, the man gave his first webcast sermon.Aoraki grew up in New Mexico and has a distinctly American accent, while the preacher sounds more like a British accent. Two language labs have already attempted to trace the sound to its source.One is at Fort Meade, Maryland, the sprawling NSA headquarters.Interceptors there can intercept any part of any conversation in the world transmitted through space by cell phone, cable, fax, e-mail or radio.But they also worked on translations into a thousand languages and dialects, and code-breaking. The other is with the Army, at Fort Huachuca, Arizona.They generally agreed with him.The closest thing to think: Pakistani, born into a literate, well-educated family.The tone of the missionary is somewhat similar to that of the British colonial countries, and each word ends with a short pronunciation.But there is a problem. Awlaki showed his true colors when he spoke.Unlike him, the missionary stared at the camera, but never showed his face.He wears the traditional Arabic turban, but the tail of the turban is covered over his face and tucked away on the other side, leaving only his bright eyes exposed.Textiles may distort sound, the file says, making the experimental conclusions more likely to be conjectures.The computer, code-named "Formation," could distinguish accents from around the world, but it couldn't classify this one either. Trackers send out requests to all sites and intelligence agencies, hoping to get even a few words of information.The request will be sent to two dozen overseas intelligence agencies fighting the jihadists.First of all, the British intelligence agencies, they are especially important.They once ruled Pakistan and are still very well connected there.Their secret intelligence agency in Islamabad was large and closely related to the relatively larger CIA.These intelligence agencies will receive his information. His second move was to solicit all missionaries' online sermons on jihadist websites.For the past two years, missionaries have continuously uploaded sermon videos to the Internet, and it must take a long time to finish listening to them. The simplicity of what the preacher said may be why he was so successful in converting extremism and getting so many people to the cause of extremist jihadism.What he said in front of the camera is that to be a good Muslim, you must really love Allah and the Prophet Muhammad deeply, let their names be praised, and let them enjoy peace.But words are not enough. True believers have the urge to turn love into action. Such actions can only be punishment for those who wage war against Allah, His people and the Muslim community around the world.The most important of those people are Big Satan America and Little Satan Britain.They deserve punishment for what they have done and are doing, and it makes punishment a divine indictment. The preacher called upon the audience and hearers of his sermons to refrain from confiding in others, even to those who claimed to be like-minded.Because even in mosques there are traitors who will denounce the true believers for Kafir's gold. Therefore, true believers must convert their thoughts to true Islam quietly and not reveal it to anyone.He had to worship alone, and he only listened to the missionaries who would show him the way. He warns against planning complex schemes involving strange chemicals and lots of co-conspirators, because someone will notice you buying or stockpiling bomb-making materials, or, one of the co-conspirators defecting.The people in the infidel prisons were overheard, seen, tracked down or betrayed by Muslim brothers by those they thought they could trust. The preacher's words are as simple as they are deadly.Every true believer is to find for himself a prominent heretic out of society and send him to hell.After completing the mission, he himself will die.But under the protection of Allah, he will go to eternal heaven. This is an extension of Awlaki's "just do it" theory, only expressed better and more convincingly.Its secret is extreme simplicity, which makes it easier for people to make up their minds and implement them in isolation.Judging by the increasing number of sudden assassinations in the two targeted countries, it is clear that if his words resonate with even one percent of young Muslims, that is a force of thousands. The trackers have checked all the replies from the US and British intelligence agencies, and no one has ever heard any mention of "missionaries" in the Muslim world.This title was given to him by the western world because he didn't know what to call him.But obviously he came from somewhere, lived somewhere, preached from somewhere, and had a name. He came to believe that the answer was on the Internet.But the near-genius computer scientists at Fort Meade failed.These sermons cannot be traced no matter who uploaded them to the network.Because they appear to originate from one source after another, all over the globe, changing instantaneously.A hundred possible addresses were located, all fake.
The tracker refused to take anyone to his hideout in the woods, even if the person passed security.The entire unit respects secrecy, and he is no exception.He also doesn't like going to other Washington offices if he can avoid it.He only wants to meet people he wants to talk to.He knows he has a growing reputation for being unconventional, but he loves roadside shops.No identity, no name, just buffet and customers.At a small roadside hotel in Baltimore, he met with a network whiz from Fort Meade. The coffee was too hot to drink.Both sat, each stirring their coffee.They knew each other from previous investigative activities.The man who sat with the tracker claimed to be the best computer agent in the NSA.This name is not small. "Then why can't you find him?" asked the tracker. The NSA agent looked at the coffee, frowning.The waitress was carrying a coffee pot and was trying to come over to refill their cups.He shook his head and the waitress walked away.In anyone's eyes, these are just two middle-aged men.One was muscular and muscular; the other was getting fat and pale—the result of years spent in a windowless office. "Because he's maddeningly clever," he said at last.He hates being deluded. "Tell me," said the tracker, "in plain language, if you can." "He probably recorded the sermon on a camcorder or a laptop cam, it's nothing special. He uploaded it to a website called 'Araj.' It's when Muhammad went from Mecca to Medina." The stalker has no expression on his face. He needs no explanation of Islam. "Can you trace the 'Hyjri calendar'?" "No. It's just a tool. He bought it from a small unknown company in Derry. That company has gone out of business. When he has a new sermon to send around the world, he uploads it to 'Ara', but encrypted the exact address. He made the upload originate from a series of sources, and send it out through a hundred other computers, passing each other. These sources are all over the world, changing in an instant .Obviously, the owners of the hundred computers had no idea what they were doing. Ultimately, the sermons could have been uploaded from anywhere." "How can he prevent the reverse tracing of the transfer line?" "By making a proxy server, make a fake network protocol. The network protocol is like your home's zip code address. Entering this proxy server, he uses malware or botnets to send his sermons to the world." "translate." The NSA man sighed.He's spent his entire life speaking Internet jargon to his peers, and their words will understand exactly what he's talking about. "Malware. Malicious, that is, bad or harmful. A computer virus. BOT, short for robot, a program that does what you tell it to do without asking or revealing who the program is for." The tracker mused. "So the mighty NSA has really been defeated?" The government's computer ace wasn't amused, but he nodded anyway. "Of course we're going to keep trying." "Time waits for no one. I'll have to try somewhere else." "Please." "Let me ask this. Control your annoyed instincts. Assuming you were this missionary, who would you want the last thing to follow you? Who cares about what you do?" "Someone stronger than me." "Is there such a person?" The NSA man sighed. "Probably. Somewhere out there. I guess among young people. Those old guns of all walks of life, sooner or later some hairless kid will pass them by." "Do you know any kid with a hairless mouth? A specific kid with a hairless mouth?" "Look, I've never even met him. But I heard recently at a seminar and a trade show, right here in Virginia, that there was a young man. The guy who told me said he didn't come to the trade show because he和父母住一起，从来不离开家。从来不。从、来、不。他很特别。他在通常的世界里比较神经质，很少讲话，可一进入他自己的世界，就像王牌飞行员一样飞翔。” “哪种世界？” “网络。” “你知道他的名字吗？或者地址？” “我料到你会问。”他从口袋里拿出一张纸条，递了过来，然后站起身，“如果他帮不上忙，别怪我。这只是个传言。我们这行的怪人中间到处是小道消息。” 他离开后，追踪者把松饼和咖啡吃完，也离开了。在停车场，他看了下纸条。罗杰·肯德里克。地址是弗吉尼亚的森特维尔，那是过去二十年里，雨后春笋一样出现的无数卫星城中的一个。“9·11事件”之后，那里的人口爆炸式地增长。
所有的追踪者，所有的探员，无论什么样的追踪，无论在哪里追踪，无论找谁，都需要一个突破口。只要一个。基特·卡尔森这次会很幸运，他将有两个。 一个是那个十几岁的男孩，和父母住在弗吉尼亚州森特维尔后街的房子里，不敢离开他的阁楼卧室；另外一个是阿富汗的农民，他的风湿病终于迫使他放下枪，从山里出来了。
Notes:
People cope with grief in different ways.For some people, the only way to prove their sincerity is to cry hysterically.Others responded, quietly, breaking down, weeping helplessly, mostly in public.But there are also people who, like animals, only heal in privacy and alone. They grieve alone, sharing their tears only with the walls unless they need to hug another loved one or partner.Kit Carlson visits his father at his place.Since his post was at Lejeune Barracks, he wouldn't stay long. He was alone in the empty room of the base, throwing himself into his work.He went out on alone runs or spent long hours in the gym until the physical pain dulled the inner pain, until the base doctor told him to relax. The Battlefield Hunter program is a course that teaches Marines the skills to track and capture in wild, rural and urban environments.The core idea is: always be a hunter, don't be the target of being hunted.Kit was one of the founders who thought about creating this course.During his time at Portsmouth and Lejeune, a lot of big things happened. The "9.11 Incident" triggered a sudden change in the US Air Force and government's threat to the United States, even if this threat to the United States had only the slightest possibility.The national early warning system is slowly starting to think about how to deal with paranoia.The result was an explosion of "intelligence" agencies.The original sixteen intelligence-gathering agencies in the United States suddenly increased to more than one thousand. By 2012, according to accurate estimates, the United States had declassified 850,000 top-secret documents.More than 1,200 government organizations and 2,000 private companies are engaged in top-secret programs related to counterterrorism and homeland security.More than 10,000 places were involved, all over the country. Goal as far back as 2001: Basic intelligence agencies must never refuse to share their intelligence with each other, lest nineteen mass murder zealots slip through the early warning system again.But a decade later, at the cost of bankruptcy, the result is mostly the same as it was in 2001.The entire self-defensive state apparatus produces almost fifty thousand top-secret reports a year, far more than any human being can read, let alone comprehend, analyze, synthesize, or verify.So those reports were just filed away. Basically, most of the growth comes from the Joint Special Operations Command, or J-SOC.Before those nineteen people, the agency had existed for many years, but it was very low-key, basically a defense agency.Take two and turn it into the world's largest, most aggressive, and deadliest personal force. The word "private" makes sense.Because it's the president's personal tool, not anyone else's.It can conduct secret wars without seeking any approval from Congress; it gets billions of dollars a year in its budget and never bothers with the State Appropriations Committee; work schedule.Everything is top secret. The first reformer of JSOC was Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld.He was a tough, power-hungry guy in Washington circles who resented the CIA's privileges.According to its charter, the CIA is accountable only to the president, not Congress, and it has Special Operations troops.It can conduct stealthy and deadly operations overseas if the chief speaks.This is power, real power.Secretary Rumsfeld is determined to have that power.But much of the Pentagon is at the mercy of Congress, subject to its unlimited possibilities for interference. If he had any chance of competing with CIA Director George Tenet, Rumsfeld needed an armed force outside of congressional surveillance.A fully reformed Joint Special Operations Command is such an armed force. With the approval of George W. Bush, JSOC has grown in size, budget, and authority.It absorbed all of the special forces across the country, including the Sixth SEAL (which later killed Osama bin Laden), the Delta Force (or D-Boys, drawn from the Green Berets), the Sixth Seventy-fifth Ranger Regiment, Air Force Special Aviation Regiment (has long-range helicopters and is good at night sneaking), etc.It also incorporates the Technical Operations Support Directorate. In the summer of 2003, when the Iraq issue was at its height, almost no one was looking elsewhere.Two events occurred at this time to complete the reinvention of JSOC.General Stanley McChrystal was named the new commander.Anyone who thinks that JSOC will continue to play a primarily domestic domestic role is running out of ideas. In September 2003, Secretary Rumsfeld obtained the consent of the President and signed the Presidential Order of the United States. The presidential decree has eighty pages, and the traces of the highest instructions of the United States are deeply engraved between the lines, but there is no specific content.It's sort of like a big "presidential investigation."What the presidential decree actually says is: Do whatever you want. Around that time, a lame Ranger lieutenant colonel named Dale Curtis was on paid rest from convalescence, but it was almost over.He has mastered the technique of using the prosthetic left leg very well.In fact, no one could even tell that his legs were bad.But the 75th Rangers were not for those with prosthetics.His career appears to be over. But like the SEALs, the Rangers don't leave their partners in trouble.General McChrystal, also a Ranger of the 75th, had heard of Lieutenant Colonel Curtis.The general had just run the entire Joint Special Operations Command, including the Technical Operations Support Directorate, whose commander was about to retire.Commander's position doesn't require the same standards as field assignments, it's just an office job.The meeting was brief, and Lieutenant Colonel Curtis jumped at the opportunity. There's an old saying in this secret force: If you want to keep a secret, don't try to hide it.Because those disgusting media people will sniff it out.Give it an innocuous name, a completely boring job description - TOSA, short for Technical Operations Support Agency.Don't even use the words "agency", "administration" or "authority".Operational Support can mean changing a light bulb, or, weeding out third world obnoxious politicians.In this case, however, it is likely to be the latter. Before the "9.11 Incident", the Technical Operations Support Bureau had existed.Among the people it hunted was Colombian drug lord Pablo Escobar.That's what it does.If everyone else is stumped, this arresting force will be called in.It has only two hundred and fifty employees and is based in Northern Virginia under the guise of a toxic chemistry research center.No one will visit. In order to make itself more secretive, it constantly changed its name, and was even shortened to "Operation". .The Commander liked that last name enough to use it as his own.After receiving his commission, Lieutenant Colonel Dale Curtis disappeared, becoming Gray Fox.Later, the department was renamed "Intelligence Support", but the word "intelligence" was more noticeable, so it was changed to TOSA, Technical Operations Support Bureau. In 2009, Gray Fox's most important hunter retired.At this time, Fox had served in this position for six years, and his head was full of real secrets.He set off to a Montana archive to find his right man.There is only one computer on the desk, and Lieutenant Colonel Curtis can only sit behind the desk to look for it.Still, having all the passwords to DOD systems is a good start.A week later, a face appeared on the screen and he was stunned.Lieutenant Colonel Christopher Kit Carlson - the man who carried him out of the Shaychcourt Valley! Fox checked Carlson's resume.Actual soldier, foreign language scholarship, expert on Arabic issues, proficient in multiple languages, "hunter".Fox reached for the phone on the table. Kit Carlson doesn't want to leave the Marine Corps a second time.However, the result of the second dispute still won the above. A week later, he walked into Gray Fox's office.The office building is low and sits in a wooded area in Northern Virginia.He noticed that the man who came to greet him was limping.A crutch was propped in the corner, with the emblem of the Seventy-fifth Ranger Regiment pasted on it. "Remember me?" the lieutenant colonel asked.Kit Carlson thought of the biting wind, the pebbles under his combat boots, the weight on his back that was breaking him, and the exhaustion of wanting to die right there. "It's been a long time," he said. "I know you don't want to leave the Marine Corps," Gray Fox said, "but I need you. Also, in this building, we only use the first name. Others, like 'Lieutenant Colonel Carlson,' have since are no longer used. To the whole world outside this building, you are just a 'stalker'."
For years, the Tracker worked alone, even on the trail of six of the nation's most wanted enemies.Betullah Mehsud, a member of the Pakistani Taliban, was blown up by a drone in a farmhouse in South Waziristan in 2009.Abu Yazid, the founder of al-Qaeda and a financier of 9/11, was killed in another drone strike in Pakistan in 2012. He was the first to identify Quweidi as bin Laden's personal messenger.The surveillance drone followed Quweidi on his last long drive through Pakistan.Surprisingly, he did not drive to the mountains, but took another road.He thus discovered one of bin Laden's strongholds in Abbottabad. Yemeni-American Anwar al-Awlaki was caught preaching online in English after he invited his fellow American Samir Khan, editor of the jihadist publication Inspire, to join his group in northern Yemen .Quso, who has been traced to his residence in South Yemen.The drone launched another strike while he was sleeping, and a Hellfire missile flew through his bedroom window. One morning in 2014, when the trees were just sprouting, Gray Fox came along with a copy of the "Presidential Survey" delivered by courier from the Oval Office. "Another Internet trumpeter, stalker. But it's weird, no name, no face. No leads at all. He's yours. Just say what you want, 'Presidential Investigation' will meet all your requirements." Finished , he limped out. There is a file, but very little. On September 2, 2011, about two years ago, Awlaki and his companions died beside a road in northern Yemen.Shortly thereafter, the man gave his first webcast sermon.Aoraki grew up in New Mexico and has a distinctly American accent, while the preacher sounds more like a British accent. Two language labs have already attempted to trace the sound to its source.One is at Fort Meade, Maryland, the sprawling NSA headquarters.Interceptors there can intercept any part of any conversation in the world transmitted through space by cell phone, cable, fax, e-mail or radio.But they also worked on translations into a thousand languages and dialects, and code-breaking. The other is with the Army, at Fort Huachuca, Arizona.They generally agreed with him.The closest thing to think: Pakistani, born into a literate, well-educated family.The tone of the missionary is somewhat similar to that of the British colonial countries, and each word ends with a short pronunciation.But there is a problem. Awlaki showed his true colors when he spoke.Unlike him, the missionary stared at the camera, but never showed his face.He wears the traditional Arabic turban, but the tail of the turban is covered over his face and tucked away on the other side, leaving only his bright eyes exposed.Textiles may distort sound, the file says, making the experimental conclusions more likely to be conjectures.The computer, code-named "Formation," could distinguish accents from around the world, but it couldn't classify this one either. Trackers send out requests to all sites and intelligence agencies, hoping to get even a few words of information.The request will be sent to two dozen overseas intelligence agencies fighting the jihadists.First of all, the British intelligence agencies, they are especially important.They once ruled Pakistan and are still very well connected there.Their secret intelligence agency in Islamabad was large and closely related to the relatively larger CIA.These intelligence agencies will receive his information. His second move was to solicit all missionaries' online sermons on jihadist websites.For the past two years, missionaries have continuously uploaded sermon videos to the Internet, and it must take a long time to finish listening to them. The simplicity of what the preacher said may be why he was so successful in converting extremism and getting so many people to the cause of extremist jihadism.What he said in front of the camera is that to be a good Muslim, you must really love Allah and the Prophet Muhammad deeply, let their names be praised, and let them enjoy peace.But words are not enough. True believers have the urge to turn love into action. Such actions can only be punishment for those who wage war against Allah, His people and the Muslim community around the world.The most important of those people are Big Satan America and Little Satan Britain.They deserve punishment for what they have done and are doing, and it makes punishment a divine indictment. The preacher called upon the audience and hearers of his sermons to refrain from confiding in others, even to those who claimed to be like-minded.Because even in mosques there are traitors who will denounce the true believers for Kafir's gold. Therefore, true believers must convert their thoughts to true Islam quietly and not reveal it to anyone.He had to worship alone, and he only listened to the missionaries who would show him the way. He warns against planning complex schemes involving strange chemicals and lots of co-conspirators, because someone will notice you buying or stockpiling bomb-making materials, or, one of the co-conspirators defecting.The people in the infidel prisons were overheard, seen, tracked down or betrayed by Muslim brothers by those they thought they could trust. The preacher's words are as simple as they are deadly.Every true believer is to find for himself a prominent heretic out of society and send him to hell.After completing the mission, he himself will die.But under the protection of Allah, he will go to eternal heaven. This is an extension of Awlaki's "just do it" theory, only expressed better and more convincingly.Its secret is extreme simplicity, which makes it easier for people to make up their minds and implement them in isolation.Judging by the increasing number of sudden assassinations in the two targeted countries, it is clear that if his words resonate with even one percent of young Muslims, that is a force of thousands. The trackers have checked all the replies from the US and British intelligence agencies, and no one has ever heard any mention of "missionaries" in the Muslim world.This title was given to him by the western world because he didn't know what to call him.But obviously he came from somewhere, lived somewhere, preached from somewhere, and had a name. He came to believe that the answer was on the Internet.But the near-genius computer scientists at Fort Meade failed.These sermons cannot be traced no matter who uploaded them to the network.Because they appear to originate from one source after another, all over the globe, changing instantaneously.A hundred possible addresses were located, all fake.
The tracker refused to take anyone to his hideout in the woods, even if the person passed security.The entire unit respects secrecy, and he is no exception.He also doesn't like going to other Washington offices if he can avoid it.He only wants to meet people he wants to talk to.He knows he has a growing reputation for being unconventional, but he loves roadside shops.No identity, no name, just buffet and customers.At a small roadside hotel in Baltimore, he met with a network whiz from Fort Meade. The coffee was too hot to drink.Both sat, each stirring their coffee.They knew each other from previous investigative activities.The man who sat with the tracker claimed to be the best computer agent in the NSA.This name is not small. "Then why can't you find him?" asked the tracker. The NSA agent looked at the coffee, frowning.The waitress was carrying a coffee pot and was trying to come over to refill their cups.He shook his head and the waitress walked away.In anyone's eyes, these are just two middle-aged men.One was muscular and muscular; the other was getting fat and pale—the result of years spent in a windowless office. "Because he's maddeningly clever," he said at last.He hates being deluded. "Tell me," said the tracker, "in plain language, if you can." "He probably recorded the sermon on a camcorder or a laptop cam, it's nothing special. He uploaded it to a website called 'Araj.' It's when Muhammad went from Mecca to Medina." The stalker has no expression on his face. He needs no explanation of Islam. "Can you trace the 'Hyjri calendar'?" "No. It's just a tool. He bought it from a small unknown company in Derry. That company has gone out of business. When he has a new sermon to send around the world, he uploads it to 'Ara', but encrypted the exact address. He made the upload originate from a series of sources, and send it out through a hundred other computers, passing each other. These sources are all over the world, changing in an instant .Obviously, the owners of the hundred computers had no idea what they were doing. Ultimately, the sermons could have been uploaded from anywhere." "How can he prevent the reverse tracing of the transfer line?" "By making a proxy server, make a fake network protocol. The network protocol is like your home's zip code address. Entering this proxy server, he uses malware or botnets to send his sermons to the world." "translate." The NSA man sighed.He's spent his entire life speaking Internet jargon to his peers, and their words will understand exactly what he's talking about. "Malware. Malicious, that is, bad or harmful. A computer virus. BOT, short for robot, a program that does what you tell it to do without asking or revealing who the program is for." The tracker mused. "So the mighty NSA has really been defeated?" The government's computer ace wasn't amused, but he nodded anyway. "Of course we're going to keep trying." "Time waits for no one. I'll have to try somewhere else." "Please." "Let me ask this. Control your annoyed instincts. Assuming you were this missionary, who would you want the last thing to follow you? Who cares about what you do?" "Someone stronger than me." "Is there such a person?" The NSA man sighed. "Probably. Somewhere out there. I guess among young people. Those old guns of all walks of life, sooner or later some hairless kid will pass them by." "Do you know any kid with a hairless mouth? A specific kid with a hairless mouth?" "Look, I've never even met him. But I heard recently at a seminar and a trade show, right here in Virginia, that there was a young man. The guy who told me said he didn't come to the trade show because he和父母住一起，从来不离开家。从来不。从、来、不。他很特别。他在通常的世界里比较神经质，很少讲话，可一进入他自己的世界，就像王牌飞行员一样飞翔。” “哪种世界？” “网络。” “你知道他的名字吗？或者地址？” “我料到你会问。”他从口袋里拿出一张纸条，递了过来，然后站起身，“如果他帮不上忙，别怪我。这只是个传言。我们这行的怪人中间到处是小道消息。” 他离开后，追踪者把松饼和咖啡吃完，也离开了。在停车场，他看了下纸条。罗杰·肯德里克。地址是弗吉尼亚的森特维尔，那是过去二十年里，雨后春笋一样出现的无数卫星城中的一个。“9·11事件”之后，那里的人口爆炸式地增长。
所有的追踪者，所有的探员，无论什么样的追踪，无论在哪里追踪，无论找谁，都需要一个突破口。只要一个。基特·卡尔森这次会很幸运，他将有两个。 一个是那个十几岁的男孩，和父母住在弗吉尼亚州森特维尔后街的房子里，不敢离开他的阁楼卧室；另外一个是阿富汗的农民，他的风湿病终于迫使他放下枪，从山里出来了。
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